The Perfect Storm
by chickadee3711
Summary: Everything in his life came together in the worst way possible, and at the worst time possible. He could only find one logical thing to do in this situation. But his brilliant plan may end up making things even worse for himself. Shizaya. Highschool, slight AU. Rating might change.
1. Chapter 1

It was as if the sky had been torn open. Raindrops fell like tears as the grey expanse above Ikebukuro wept over its wound. In the early morning, when the world was still bathed in pale silver, the rain came down in a light drizzle. But by about one in the afternoon, it was a torrential downpour. There were no harsh winds to accompany this, only occasional claps of thunder that served as sobs to the wet weather. Every boom sent a jolt through the citizens occupying this half-drowned city while they awaited an end.

They did what they could to stay inside, and huddled under umbrellas when they were forced to face the elements. Many wondered if this would stop any time soon and if they would ever see the sun as anything more than a blank hole in a charcoal colored sky. Others would stare out of glass window panes without a thought, just mesmerized by the water surrounding them. The Fortissimo of Ikebukuro was one of the latter.

Shizuo Heiwajima ran a hand through his hair, golden eyes scanning the classroom slowly. Shinra, his childhood friend, was working dutifully on his homework in the seat beside him. Every few seconds he'd be jabbed in the ribs with the eraser end of the brunette's pencil and then asked a stupid question that didn't pertain to anything going on around them. A glance towards the clock showed that there were only twenty minutes left before school was officially over. He heaved a heavy sigh and slumped forward on his desk. So far, he'd done fairly well. The day had gone by without incident; he had thrown a desk at Izaya, but that wasn't anything major. If he could finish today off then he could possibly deem this a 'good day'. Shizuo was determined not to destroy anything as he tightened his fist and set to work on the assignment in front of him.

He scribbled down answers, painstakingly working out each problem until the numbers just blurred together. Each poke to his side went unacknowledged, seeing as he was too wrapped up in the complex equations he was supposed to finish. That was until one prod wound up a little too low, hitting the sensitive skin just above his hips, and with the needle sharp tip of the lead instead of a squishy eraser. His eyes widened almost comically as the string of curses that flew from his mouth were drowned out by the bell's ringing. Shizuo glared darkly at Shinra and hauled his backpack onto his shoulders. The boy in glasses merely grinned.

"Sorry Shizuo, but you were ignoring me," he chirped, totally unaffected by the anger in his friend's eyes.

"I ignored you so you'd leave me alone." Shizuo pulled out his plain black umbrella, popping it open and moving quickly down the stairs before Shinra had a chance to complain.

Outside, the pitter patter of little droplets hitting the black material of his umbrella was almost soothing to Shizuo. It silenced any murderous or violent thoughts he had at the time, aiding him in his attempts to disregard his surroundings. For once, he felt calm.

It wasn't until the voices of his fellow classmates faded that he realized he had been standing still in the center of the courtyard, motionless in the middle of a storm. The only noises he could hear were the slight revving of cars in the distance and the now ever present sound of rain. So when joyous laughter penetrated his eardrums, he was more than surprised. Nobody else should be here at this time, even though he was. But he was always an exception to just about everything.

Turning around, he caught sight of a small figure perched on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the edge. Unlike Shizuo, this person did not possess an umbrella and was being pelted by the rain mercilessly. They didn't seem to care. If he wasn't mistaken, they were enjoying it. Black hair was matted down, and due to the distance and their upturned face, Shizuo couldn't identify their eye color. But as soon as the person stood he easily recognized them. The off-white fur on their jacket was sopping wet, flinging water in every direction as they twirled on the thin ledge. It was obvious that Izaya was smiling during this entire little show from the slightly manic giggles that passed his lips from time to time. When his feet hit the very corner, hanging halfway over the edge, his grin dropped. The drastic shift in mood was enough to make anyone uncomfortable. For Shizuo, it was a little odd to see the person he hated the most with such a somber expression. It unnerved him. Usually, the Orihara boy had on a taunting smirk that would without a doubt piss Shizuo off.

Now, though, all emotion was gone, save for a tinge of frustration. It showed in his tense movements, though they still didn't lack their usual grace, when he spun on his heel so his back was to Shizuo. For a few moments they both stood there rigid. Izaya was unaware of Shizuo's presence as far as he could tell. Neither of them made a sound. The lack of witty banter between them was making his gut churn nervously, and he had the feeling he was witnessing something that nobody was supposed to see. This was a private moment for the flea and he could tell. So, he decided to ruin it for him, just like Izaya had ruined the entirety of his teenage life.

Shizuo opened his mouth to call out, to yell at him for acting like a moron and tell him to go home. He had a nice little speech planned out in his head, and was proud of himself for the clever wording. But he never had a chance to say it. Every thought in his head came to a speeding halt when the lithe body back-stepped off of the roof and let gravity do the rest.

The damp clothing seemed to give a helping hand in dragging him down. With the wind rushing past him Izaya couldn't help but smile. Still, this was nothing like what he put on display for everyone to see. This one had an odd air of contentment to it. Maybe it was because Izaya was plummeting fast, the ground rushing up to meet him full force. And when the two finally connected, it was with a sickening crack that Shizuo knew very well. It was the sound of shattering bones.

For a full thirty seconds Shizuo didn't move from his place. His body felt like it had turned into led. _What the hell?_ he thought. _Izaya, what the hell did you do? _He wanted to scream it even though he knew deep down that the future informant wouldn't be able to answer him. There was no way he would have survived that fall, especially with his thin frame. That was the thought that set him in motion. Shizuo ran, making it over to Izaya in record time. He couldn't help but think bitterly that this was one of the only times he'd ever be able to catch him.

Blood collected in a dark pool around his worn leather shoes as he stepped up to the motionless body. Sharp protrusions stood out underneath the red shirt Izaya always wore despite the school's dress code. _Are those his ribs? _Shizuo was ready to vomit at this point. He fell to his knees, one hand fumbling for his phone while the other nudged the dark haired boy's shoulder. Too shocked by what he was seeing, he dialed the first number he thought of.

"Hello?" came the crackling yet still peppy greeting from Shinra.

"Shinra? It's me, Shizuo, I…I think Izaya's dead," Shizuo said, his voice sounding strange to even him. It was more hoarse than usual and cracked on almost every other word. He'd be sure to ask Shinra about this later. There was a chance he was getting sick from the rain.

"Oh my god, what did you do?!" the other boy screeched through the speaker. The comment stung even though it wasn't unjustified. Practically every day Shizuo claimed that he was going to kill Izaya. But looking at him know, bleeding and unmoving on the ground, he could say that he was honestly scared. He couldn't let anyone die no matter who they are. It didn't even matter if they were a pretentious prick like Izaya Orihara.

"I didn't do anything!" he barked gruffly. "He was dancing on the school roof like an idiot and then stepped off the edge!"

"Shizuo, that doesn't make any sense! Oh god, call an ambulance! I'll be right over!"

The line went dead.

He made another call, this time to 119*. They asked him questions to which he gave short and blunt answers. If he tried anything long winded then he was sure his voice would break again. When they hung up, he sat and tugged softly at the other boy's jacket. _Maybe he'll wake up. _The logic was childish, but he couldn't help but hope. Shizuo would even be fine with Izaya sitting up and slashing at him with his switchblade if it meant that he knew he was alright. But no such thing happened. Izaya stayed in the exact same position until the ambulance arrived and placed him on a stretcher. A medic took one look at Shizuo before recommending he go home to rest. He then climbed into the vehicle, closed the door, and sped off with sirens blaring.

* * *

*119 - basically it's the Japanese version of 911, but you probably deduced that on your own.

**Review if you want more from this, otherwise I might discontinue it...I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Kinda funny how the first two things I post involve hospitals within the first chapter though. Weird. ANYWAYS. Leave me any questions, comments, or concerns and I will get back to you! :3**

**~Chickadee**


	2. Chapter 2

When he reached his home after stumbling along dark alleyways, he did everything but rest. Shizuo flopped down on his bed with a dull thump and stared at the ceiling. After the initial shock, his mind flooded with questions. _Why? Did he plan this? Is it something I said to him? WHY, Goddamnit!?_ With an irritated growl, Shizuo covered his head with a pillow. His eyes squeezed shut in hopes that the darkness would help him fall asleep.

Sleep never came to him that night. Instead he lay awake, clutching his blankets to his chest as the images of Izaya falling to his death flashed behind his eyelids. Eventually he stopped trying and focused his unblinking eyes on the wall so he wouldn't see Izaya die anymore.

It felt like he'd been laying in bed for minutes, but hours had passed, seeing as his alarm clock was blaring. _Just like the sirens_, he thought. He glared at the flashing red numbers before throwing the damn thing at the wall where it was smashed to pieces. Shizuo hauled himself out of bed and got dressed in his Raira Academy uniform though his body was overcome by an intense wave of lethargy. His fingers fumbled when trying to fix his necktie for surprising amount of time even though he would ultimately tear it off and shove it in his pocket. It wasn't like he seriously planned on going to school anyways. There were more important things to do today. One was to find out what possessed Izaya, annoying and cocky Izaya, to throw himself over the edge of a building.

Even though he saw it himself, he couldn't get over how surreal it seemed. He felt that he would walk into the hospital and ask for Izaya's room number only to be told he'd never been checked in. Wouldn't that be a real slap in the face?

* * *

Shizuo considered going back home and sleeping, even though his feet kept him on the path that led to the hospital he was so familiar with. It was his curiosity that drove him there. He would never say that he was actually concerned for the flea's well-being. That would just be ridiculous.

Nurses greeted him as he passed through the sliding glass doors into the sterile world of medicine. Those that had worked there long enough knew him by name. He waved in acknowledgement before stopping at the check-in counter.

"Is there an Izaya Orihara here?" he asked, anxiously fiddling with the tie in his pocket.

Behind the desk sat a middle aged woman, thin and bony but with a gentle face. Her eyes were a brilliant green that off-set how plain her mousy brown hair was. The tag on her shirt read 'Chiharu'. "Yes, there certainly is. May I ask what your relation to him is?"

What exactly was his relationship with Izaya? "I'm just a friend," Shizuo told her, even though he was lying through his teeth. To call him and Izaya friends was like calling a cat a Dalmatian.

The lady nodded and tapped away on her keyboard, eyes scanning the pages until she found what she was looking for. She smiled amiably and glanced up at him. "Second floor, sixth room on the left. There's somebody else visiting but I don't think they'll mind."

Shizuo gave a slight nod and continued on his way. He was the only lone soul in that hallway, the clicking of his dress shoes on the tile sounding louder than it actually was. With every _clack_ he lost a bit more of his resolve. His hand was on the doorknob for a full five seconds before he just let it drop. When he turned to leave he heard the door open, then close, and heard someone gasp in what must have been surprise.

"Shizuo!" It was Shinra. Apparently he had the same idea of skipping school to come see Izaya. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

_I didn't either, trust me. _"I'm not here to offer my condolences, Shinra. I just want to get some answers out of him."

This must have been funny, because Shinra laughed and smiled up at him. "Just try not to injure him any further. Have fun chatting!"

The brunette adjusted his glasses and set off towards home to his lovely Celty.

Shizuo stared at the retreating form until he was sure Shinra had gone, then gripped the silver handle again.

He opened the door and…

was promptly hit in the face with a shoe.

The shoe clattered to the ground and Shizuo stood there seemingly unaffected. The person who threw the black leather object was absolutely livid.

Izaya was propped up in the bed with bandages covering the entirety of his torso; some were even wrapped around his head. He stood out in the bright white room. His black hair marred the colorless scenery while his eyes seemed to darken the world itself. Shizuo was starting to think this was a bad idea, and he was right.

"If you would be so kind as to get the hell out, I'd greatly appreciate it Shizu-chan," Izaya hissed, voice nothing short of pure hatred. The emphasis he put on the blonde's nickname would have made anyone else turn tail and run. But Shizuo was too much of a brute to really care.

"No," was his simple reply as he kicked the shoe aside and pushed further into the room, door closing solemnly behind him.

Izaya glared and pressed back against the mattress, thinking Shizuo would go away if he just made himself seem smaller. "Oh? And why not?"

"I want some answers, flea. Why'd you jump?"

Frenzied laughter filled the room, making Shizuo flinch back. "Jump? You think I jumped? I fell, Shizu-chan. It was willing of course, but it was falling nonetheless."

"It's all the same, you damn flea!" Shizuo growled angrily. "Why'd you do it?"

The insane smile that covered Izaya's face was gone in an instant, just as it had before he 'fell' from the rooftop. "I don't have to explain my reasons to a protozoan like you. But I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out."

"Oh yeah? And how are you going to pull that one off?" he replied with a sneer. Izaya shrugged, and lazily jabbed his thumb into a break in his ribs. He flinched, moaning in pain, and shot Shizuo a warning glance.

"I'll say that you're hurting me. Not like they wouldn't believe me. Everyone knows you want me dead," Izaya said with a sardonic smile. The look in his eyes was clear. He had nothing to lose at this point.

Shizuo backed away slowly as red started seeping through the clothe bandages. "Fine. I'll leave."

Izaya laughed again and waved like a preschooler. "Bye-bye, Shizu-chan!"

The laughter cut off abruptly when Shizuo let the door slam abruptly as he exited. What was up with these mood swings? This wasn't the cool and collected Izaya he was used to. This was like someone else altogether.

* * *

**Somebody tell me why I can't post a second chapter that I'm really happy with. T^T Gah, whatever! Could be better, could be worse. But now we're getting into the plot so things should be easier for me to write. Hopefully. At least I have a plan!**

**~Chickadee**


	3. Chapter 3

**Rai Rai Blue- I see your point, but dig this: Izaya has taken a convenient store trashcan to the head and just stood up like nothing happened. A normal person would be hospitalized with at least a concussion after that. So I figured that since Iza-chan is so amazing, he'd only be out cold for a few hours after falling from a rooftop. ^^ The school isn't super-duper tall either.**

* * *

Izaya groaned and laid back on the bed, one hand clamped over his side. He just may have gone a little over board with worsening his wounds. His mind was still swimming though, and he couldn't think of any other way to convince the blonde brute to leave him alone. A glance down at his ribs showed that there was a crimson patch about the size of a softball and still growing rapidly. Oh well. The doctors would fix him up before they took him in for another mental evaluation.

He'd been getting a lot of those lately; for the most part he would sit and make casual conversation while trying to avoid giving away anything personal. The psychologist would stare at him like he was some sort of piece of machinery that needed fixing. It made him grin up at the ceiling as he adjusted his pure white sheets. Izaya was confident that they wouldn't find anything wrong with him. He was too clever to let on that something was truly bothering him. This whole little fiasco simply didn't go according to plan.

One night at home went from bad to worse until he found himself fervently looking through articles online in an attempt to distract himself from the throbbing in his head. That was when he discovered solipsism. A philosophy where the mind is the only thing we can be sure exists, and death is merely the end to a long-running dream. For some odd reason, that filled the twisted teenager with hope. If his life so far had only been a dream, then he could just die and wake up to something else, something better. He wanted to _feel better_.

His walk down memory lane was interrupted by the heavy sound of the door opening and closing. A new doctor, the other one must have gotten frustrated with Izaya's jeers, stood by the entrance with a clip board in hand. This one seemed to be a bit more serious than the last one. At least that would make it all the better when he finally broke them down.

The psychologist stared at the shoe which was still in the middle of the floor, unmoved and looking very out of place in their pale environment. Next, his side was inspected from a distance. With a critical look and a click of the 'call' button, his new psychologist sat down in a squeaky plastic chair beside his bed.

"Let's chat."

* * *

"Izaya's getting a psyche evaluation today. Don't you want to know what the results are?" Shinra queried lightly, trying to make the question sound casual. Inside he felt like his lungs were going to pop like over-filled balloons. This constant anxiety was killing him. It had barely been 24 hours since Izaya's literal and figurative fall from grace and things were tenser than he could have ever imagined. Shizuo stayed quiet and stoic until his mortal enemy was brought up. Then things got dangerous. A boy in their gym class had asked about Izaya, playfully suggesting that Shizuo would throw a party if the other male died. The future body guard grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the gym with one hand, grumbling something about hating violence. Nobody could hear what he said over the sound of falling rubble and debris.

Shinra swallowed hard as his best friend's eyes narrowed, irritation clouding them. "Why the hell would I wanna know that? Che, the flea's fucking insane. It's obvious."

That was a complete lie on Shizuo's part. He was practically dying to know what the doctors would diagnose Izaya with. Would it be depression? That just didn't seem likely. For the amount of hysterical laughter the flea broke out into on a daily basis, anyone would be hard pressed to find something (besides Shizuo) that could upset him. Shizuo considered that maybe Izaya was schizophrenic or something, not that he knew what that meant; he had only heard about when he visited Shinra's psychology class one day. Still, it sounded like it could be plausible.

"Oh come on, Shizuo. Aren't you even a little curious? Izaya would never commit suicide; he loves his life and his humans too much! None of this makes sense," Shinra continued, half to himself and half to the male beside him.

Shizuo smacked his forehead the heel of his hand and ground it into his skin. He dreaded seeing Izaya again, fearing that the dark haired boy would do something even more drastic than what he had during Shizuo's last visit. At the forefront of his mind though he knew Shinra wouldn't be taking 'no' for an answer on this. Even though Izaya acted like a pretentious asshole, he still had friends, no matter how few there were. And plus, him and Shinra were just two of a kind with their odd fascination with humans. They suited each other surprisingly well. "If I promise to go with you tomorrow will you promise to stop talking?"

The younger boy's face brightened considerably. "Absolutely!"

"Then I guess I'll go with you."

Shinra was about to voice his excitement then remembered he had to quit talking if he wanted Shizuo to accompany him to the hospital ever again. Instead, he hummed a merry little tune the entire walk home. Well, almost the entire walk home since Shizuo jabbed him in the gut to make him stop once they passed Russia Sushi.

* * *

**I'm sorry that this is shorter than the previous chapters, my brain is kind of on overload after studying for some tests that I have tomorrow and trying to finish The Hobbit. My brother might kill me if I haven't completed it within the next week. **

**Whatever! I like where things are going with this, but as always, I do require that at least a couple review or else I won't waste my time on this. How else am I supposed to know whether people like it or not?**

**~Chickadee**


	4. Chapter 4

**Rai Rai Blue- Thank you! My tests went well thankfully ^^ and hey, if you want to pretend to be other if people and write reviews then have at it. I will not complain. And yeaaah, I figured Shizuo wouldn't really go back there without some convincing haha.**

* * *

The little 'chats' that Izaya had been having with the psychologist were leaving him in a foul mood. He had been told that he was a sociopath with something akin to depression. To Izaya, that seemed like absolute bullshit. It wasn't as if he sat in a corner and cried every day; he barely cried at all, ever. If his memory served him well, the last time he cried was when he tripped on the playground then got made fun of. He had been six at the time. In the nine years that followed that he hadn't shed a single tear. Izaya planned to keep it that way, too.

When he heard the clicking of the doorknob turning it only served to irritate him more. With his luck it would be another nurse with a palm full of pain killers. He wanted the pills more than anything, but he was getting sick of dealing with these women. They were predictable and no fun once he exhausted all of their insecurities.

Izaya smiled briefly when he saw that it was only Shinra. The boy made good company since he could carry on an intellectually stimulating conversation with him. But when he saw who was tailing him, the smile was replaced with a scowl. He reached for his shoe again and chucked it at the door. It sailed over Shinra's head, hitting Shizuo in the chest with a dull thud. The blonde glared darkly but stayed silent.

"Shizuo, you should probably leave. They don't allow animals in the hospitals, they're just filthy little vermin," Izaya drawled. He wore a lazy smirk even though he wanted to return the glare Shizuo was giving him.

Shinra shot his unnaturally strong friend a look that said he'd be in big trouble with Celty if he did something destructive. Ikebukuro's favorite monster backed down.

Turning back to the future informant, Shinra smiled. "So how are you doing? I heard that you got another evaluation done yesterday. Did they give you a diagnosis?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic, thanks for asking. And apparently I'm a very sad sociopath. I truly want someone to explain that to me."

The bespectacled boy jumped on the chance to show off his medical knowledge. "Well it does make sense that they would suggest you're sociopathic since you show so many of the symptoms. You're manipulative and a pathological liar. On top of that you lack remorse and the ability to empathize with anyone. Also, you have a need for constant stimulation or else you get bored. I can't explain the thing about depression though."

Izaya stared at him with no definable expression. "Thank you, Shinra. That's exactly what I wanted to hear today."

"Well it's true," a voice said quietly. Izaya focused in on Shizuo.

"How about you say that a little louder?"

Shizuo straightened himself and looked at his mortal enemy in defiance. "Everything Shinra just said is true and you know it."

For the second time, the sole of a shoe got acquainted with his face. That was the last straw. Shizuo grabbed the nearest object, the chair frequently used by Izaya's doctor, and lifted it over his head. Shinra tugged on Shizuo's button-up shirt desperately.

"Shizuo! C-Come on! No need to throw things!"

"Like hell there isn't!"

The banter between the two went on for a good five minutes with Shinra trying to disarm the taller male and Shizuo swinging around a chair. Izaya sat up in bed, his entire body aching from the movement. Staying still for so long was taking a toll on him. Yet despite his pain he still remained the most level-headed person in the room at that time. He had calmed down considerably during the period of time where he wasn't required to make conversation.

"Shizuo." His voice was just loud enough for the other two boys to hear, and the fact that Izaya hadn't used his nickname stunned the blonde in question. Shinra looked between is two friends and lapsed into silence.

Izaya spread his arms wide with a grin. "Throw it. I'm giving you a free shot, Shizu-chan. Go ahead and take it."

Nobody moved until Shizuo broke the silence and set the chair down with a loud clang. "I can't."

"Why not?" Izaya asked, frowning deeply. "You won't get this chance again. I can't run away from you! This is a golden opportunity!"

"I'm not like you. I don't take cheap shots."

Things were definitely not going his way today. First, when he woke up after a fitful night of sleep, the doctors decided it'd be a good time to check how his ribs were. Their fingers pressed against his tender flesh relentlessly. That's when Izaya realized how much he hated hospitals, and how much easier it was to handle self-inflicted pain. After that he played around on his laptop for a while. Of course, though, it died after maybe twenty minutes. He lay in bed clutching the hand rails for approximately two hours before the psychologist came back in to harass him. Now he had to deal with a poor excuse of a human being that just so happened to have anger issues and hates his guts. Everything was just _fantastic_.

Izaya sat up a little more, flinching when the bones grated against each other. The bleeding in his lungs had stopped at least; that was good. Now he just had to deal with excruciating pain every time he shifted ever so slightly. Shinra yelped and grabbed Izaya's shoulders with the intentions of gently pushing him back down. He didn't expect Izaya to catch his wrist in a death grip. Bruises would show within minutes.

"I'm not in the mood to do with visitors, so why don't you two take your leave? And Shinra, could you stop by my house to get the charger for my laptop. Thanks a bunch," Izaya said, plastering on a fake smile. Shinra nodded complacently so his arm would be released. He slinked back over to Shizuo, muttering a goodbye to Izaya before leaving. The blonde taking up the rear thought he saw a look of dread pass over the future informant's face. He quickly dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him. Besides, it wasn't like the flea had anything worry about.

* * *

**This chapter isn't particularly long, but that's because in the next chapter I'm dropping one serious drama bomb! Prepare yourself, dear reader. All hell is about to break loose. (Sort of.)**

**Gosh I just love writing all this angst. It's a real stress reliever for me, so I'm sorry if I'm not updating my other stories as much. Forgive me.**

**~Chickadee**


	5. Chapter 5

**grrlsvomitcandy- well this is your lucky day! :D I like responding to all of my reviews because it makes the person feel important, and they really are since they're the ones who motivate me to write.**

**Rai Rai Blue- My life is always hectic, but cranking out these chapters really helps. And hey, if I can make someone happy with these fics then I'll be sure to keep them coming. ^^**

* * *

When Shinra woke up in the morning he already had the sense that something was wrong. His insides felt knotted up with anxiety. Immediately he began listing off logical medical explanations for why he felt that way, but none of them were at all convincing. He told himself it was just because of a test he later that day, but even he didn't believe that. It was in anatomy which was his best class and he had no chance of failing. Still, he needed some way to put his mind at ease.

As he went through his morning routine which included breakfast with Celty and a punch to the stomach, he slowly forgot about his apprehension earlier.

His ignorant bliss continued throughout the majority of his day; he didn't stress at all during his test. Lunch was nothing more than average when he sat on top of the roof with Shizuo and Kadota. Shinra even managed to ignore the nagging feeling that he shouldn't be sitting where he was. He denied the feeling that this was a bad place to be, that it was dangerous. This thought was pushed even farther away when Shizuo pouted and grumbled over his spilt strawberry milk. It was amazing how this proverbial display put him in a better mood.

It was during the last period of the day that his nervousness came back. He had already finished his math homework and tucked it away in his school bag. Shizuo was working diligently on his own work, brow furrowed in deep thought. The distressed look on his face unsettled Shinra. Was his friend having this same feeling? Could it be that Shizuo was having just as much trouble concentrating? Shinra reasoned that it was more likely that his friend was simply confused by the numbers. But still, the 'what if's were gnawing at his brain in a most unpleasant manner. He hadn't even realized he was chewing his lip until the bell startled him into biting down hard enough that he began to bleed.

Shizuo looked up at the sound of a yelp to see Shinra nursing his bleeding lip. He zeroed in on the blood and frowned.

_Blood. It was on his shirt, staining his jacket, and matting down his hair. A few drops had even escaped past a pair of pale lips. The deep red color started to was drip down the thin face and mingle with the raindrops. In the air hung a sharp and metallic smell that couldn't even be washed away by the storm around them._

He refused to think about that anymore. It's not like it was an important memory; Izaya was still alive after all. And Izaya still needed the charger to his computer.

"We need to go to Izaya's house. You know, for the charger."

Shizuo scoffed and shoved his hand in his pockets, staring at his bag which still lay on the ground. He didn't want to admit that he was thinking the same thing, and was almost eager to do so. "You can go on your own."

"Shizuo, please. I don't particularly want to face Izaya's family on my own. You've seen his sisters," Shinra grimaced slightly at the though. The flea's sisters were odd to say the very least, making both boys wonder what the rest of Izaya's relatives would be like.

"Damn it Shinra, I'll go, okay? Just so you don't get harassed by those twerps," Shizuo said in a huff. He flung his bag over his shoulder and started off towards his classmate's apartment while Shinra scrambled to get his things and stop the bleeding of his lip.

* * *

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Honestly, Shizuo was pretty sure they were lost. They had been walking for what seemed like forever and he was getting fed up with it. He was so ready to spear something with a street sign. Shinra didn't notice or care, though. He was too caught up in his frazzled emotions.

It felt like someone had tied up his intestines in an intricate knot and then squeezed on his lungs. This could be a physical symptom for what is called fear. Shinra had no idea why he felt this way, it was just natural reaction. His fight or flight instincts were raging and it seemed like flight was winning. Yet despite his better judgment, he trudged on.

"I already explained to you that Izaya's apartment is in Shinjuku, therefore we have to walk quite a way to get there. The complex is right there, Shizuo," Shinra said with a sigh. His friend grumbled but didn't say anymore since Shinra was already pushing open a set of glass doors that led to a very nice looking apartment building.

His heartbeat elevated with every flight of stairs that they climbed, so when they reached the sleek black door with Izaya's address written in golden numbers, Shinra's heart was absolutely racing. He took hold of the matching gold knocker placed below the numbers and tapped a few times with little strength. Both boys waited silently. They didn't get a response.

Shinra repeated this action twice before Shizuo took control of the situation and banged the knocker like his life depended on it. From inside there was a clatter of what sounded like plates and the scraping of a chair on tiled floor.

The door opened, held there by a middle aged man with dark hair, who Shizuo assumed to be Izaya's father. A pair of reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose and made him look older than he probably was. Behind the lenses were a set of eyes that were all too familiar for Shizuo's taste. They were the same deep maroon color as Izaya's. However, these eyes didn't hold the same taunting spark; instead they had a cruel glint like the edge of a knife.

When neither Shinra nor Shizuo spoke, the man glowered at them. "I'm assuming you came here with a reason, so what is it?"

Shinra floundered around for a response before saying, "Izaya needs his laptop charger."

"Why? Where is he?" The genuine look of confusion on the man's face reflected on Shinra's, minus the annoyance.

"He's in the hospital…"

When Izaya's dad's confusion lifted, it was replaced by anger. "What? What'd he do?"

This intensity in his voice made Shinra shrink back and Shizuo step up. If someone was presenting a threat to him or someone that he cared about, he was going to take on the challenge.

"He tried to commit suicide," Shizuo explained with an even tone.

Even that didn't make the man show any concern. Instead he grumbled about trouble and bullshit before grabbing a tangled chord from a socket nearby. He pulled on a coat and shoved past the two high school students.

"Mairu! Kururi! I'll be back later, I have to deal with Izaya."

The twins were sitting on the couch together, previously unnoticed, and pressed into each other's sides. They just nodded without saying a word. Izaya's father slammed the door and cut off the view of the girls who were exchanging a knowing glance. It made Shizuo wondered if things like this had happened before he had even met Izaya. The notion made his blood run cold.

"Should we go to the hospital too?" Shinra asked meekly. Shizuo seriously contemplated this, more seriously than he had done anything in a long time. His gut was saying yes, but his head said no. Logically, it made sense to go with his head. Whenever he went with his gut he made things worse.

"No," he replied, praying to anyone who would listen that he had made the right choice.

* * *

**Oh golly...this was...yeah. This was written during the little down time I've gotten this weekend, and it was after dealing with some major angst so...I apologize if it's not everything it could be.**

**We're getting into some hardcore stuff though, folks. Hold onto your hats and strap down the children. Shit is about to hit the fan for Izaya.**

**~Chickadee**


	6. Chapter 6

Since Izaya's hospitalization, the rain had started to let up. It was a light drizzle most of the time but occasionally it would stop altogether. The use of an umbrella wasn't necessary for the people of Ikebukuro anymore. That's what Shizuo had thought as he walked home from the place Izaya called home, taking the long route just so he wouldn't have to face Kasuka. He rounded a corner only to have a big fat raindrop splash against his cheek. Shizuo wiped the water away with a questioning look. He turned his gaze back up to the sky as the downpour began. Curses streamed from his mouth as he started to sprint back home as fast as he could. And by the time he got there, Shizuo was drenched.

"You're wet," his brother deadpanned from his seat at the kitchen table. His older brother growled.

"I know that! It started raining like that out of nowhere! The one time I don't have an umbrella!"

He would've continued to rant but the sound of a glass bottle hitting the wooden tabletop cut him off. Kasuka had set a bottle of milk out for him, staring at him expectantly. Shizuo sighed and took the bottle before heading for his room.

It wasn't his fault he got so mad. He could control his anger as well as he could control his strength. And the stress that this whole deal with Izaya was putting on him wasn't helping at all. He figured that any time with Izaya gone would make his life heavenly, but instead he found himself twitching out of anxiety and thinking constantly about that little pest. The best reason for this that he could come up with was that he had nothing to take his frustration out on. At least with Izaya around he could take a swing at someone without being afraid to hurt them. That had to be why he was so tense. What else could it be?

The rain hadn't stopped at all that night, and was still going strong when Shizuo awoke the next morning. There was no alarm, only the sound of huge droplets hitting his window. Shizuo wondered if he was going to be late for school and started panicking. He fell off the bed, struggling to undress and grab his uniform at the same time. Somehow he managed this feat without killing himself and ran to the kitchen in pure desperation. Kasuka was sitting at the table as sullen as ever with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He stared at his older sibling blankly.

"It's Saturday."

* * *

Shizuo was still muttering curses as he stormed through the sliding hospital doors. The usual nurses greeted him, only to be ignored.

He hadn't planned on coming here today; his feet had just brought him here of their own accord. They were using a mind of their own when they took him up to the room where Izaya was staying. But when he opened the door to yell at the flea, the room was empty and dark. No one was there. The bed where Izaya had been laying previously was now made up with new sheets, as if he was never even there.

Shizuo was caught off guard by the emptiness. He stayed rooted to the ground and tapped a passing nurse on the shoulder. "Where did Izaya Orihara go?"

The nurse looked at him in utter confusion. "He was checked out yesterday by his father."

That didn't sit with Shizuo very well as he muttered a quick thank you and left the hospital.

Why would Izaya's dad check him out of the hospital when he was in such poor condition? No caring parent would do that to their own child. They would do everything in their power to make sure their baby got better. His own parents spent hours upon hours in the hospital with him whenever he broke a broke and had to be admitted. That's when it truly dawned on him: that man didn't give a flying fuck about Izaya. The way he spoke about the flea yesterday should have made this obvious enough. He showed no concern when told that his son was in the hospital after falling from a three story building.

Shizuo was running full speed towards Izaya's home when he realized this. He may have hated Izaya more than anything in the world, but no one, not even him, deserved to live with someone like that. His sisters didn't seem to care much either. The least Shizuo could do was take him to Shinra's so he could get proper medical care. This was what he had in mind when he banged the knocker on his enemy's door.

Luckily, it was Izaya who answered. There were white bandages poking out from under the collar of his v-neck shirt, and a new purple bruise blossomed across right cheek. Even with his battered body, Izaya's eyes were as intense as ever.

"What do you want, Shizuo?" Izaya hissed.

"You need to go back to the hospital," he blurted out, making Izaya step back slightly. Shizuo was surprised to see the soon-to-be informant so startled, but it was short lived. Izaya was glaring at him in a second.

"I'm fine. Go away."

"You're not fine! You're ribs are broken! And…and what happened to your cheek? Is that fine too?!"

Izaya didn't miss a beat even though his heart was pounding with adrenaline, his head screaming for him to just run, to get away from all of the yelling. He was used to this feeling by now. "Yes."

Shizuo stared at the raven haired boy in disbelief. "What?"

"Yes, it's fine. I didn't know you had hearing problems, Shizu-chan."

"I don't!" Shizuo yelled, his anger getting the best of him as he punched Izaya blindly. He didn't think his knuckles would connect with anything other than the doorframe. Instead, his fist found its mark on Izaya's already injured face. And when he pulled his hand away there was blood coating the backs of his fingers.

Izaya gently touched his new black eye before prodding at his busted open lip. His eyes darkened even more when he had to spit out a thick glob of blood onto the floor. "Why thank you for punching me Shizu-chan. What did I do wrong this time?"

"You…you didn't do anything…" he murmured. Shizuo could tell Izaya was about to gloat but a hand clamped down on his shoulder before he could even open his mouth.

"Who's your friend, Izaya? Ah, you're the kid from yesterday," his father said casually, ignoring the new injuries his son had sustained. "I'm sure you're worried about Izaya but let me assure you that he's fine. Have a nice day."

The door was then slammed in his face, leaving him to stand there stunned all on his own. He stared at the golden numbers while trying to piece together the previous chain of events that brought him to this point. Shizuo almost had things figured out when a dull crash and thud from the other side of the door drew him out of his surprised state. Harsh words were muffled by the wood separating them, but he was more than sure they were aimed at Izaya. Anger coursed through his veins and a fierce urge to go in there overtook him. If he did though, he could be charged with breaking and entering. Izaya's father seemed like the kind of prick that would sue over just about any little thing and still win. That left him with one option.

Shizuo walked home, shoulders slumped and eyes fastened on the ground. The blood had long since been washed from his knuckles by the rain, but his hands still didn't feel clean.

* * *

**Poor Izaya T^T and Shizu-chan! We know you mean well, but you honestly don't know what the flip you're doing. Silly Shizuo.**

**I hope this chapter is as intense to read for you as it was for me to write. I was sitting here at the computer like chewing on my nail and thinking 'Deer Lord, save him Shizuo, save him!'**

**I'm derpy. That's all there is to it.**

**Gimme some sugar, everybody! Favorite and review!**

**~Chickadee**


	7. Chapter 7

Izaya let his back hit the wall, staying in that position until his legs gave out from under him and he slid down to the floor. He was just a crumpled figure in the corner of a dark room now. It didn't matter what he looked like or what his name was. This boy was nothing.

At one point, he could have been considered something: perfect. His grades were the best in his class without him putting in too much time or effort. Every possible award that he could win was claimed by him. If there were positions of power that were available he would occupy them without a second thought. This pattern continued as he strove to achieve painfully unrealistic goals set by none other than his father. The man who was supposed to push him to be his best had instead forced him into a never ending rat race that a child had no way of escaping. Never was he outright abusive towards his son, but he was more than neglectful to the boy. Long nights alone at home made Izaya grow up too much and too fast. He had to fend for himself most of the time, developing a strong sense of independence that soon became distance. In an attempt at subduing his feelings of isolation and inadequacy, he began delving in things more dark and twisted than what a boy his age would be interested in. Psychology and the workings of human beings absolutely enthralled him. At first it was just a hobby to kill the loneliness, but when his sisters came into the picture everything changed.

Mairu and Kururi's mother died during labor but were still favored by their father, who in turn cast Izaya further aside. His beautiful baby girls were the image of perfection in his eyes. That was the title Izaya always thought he had held and rightfully deserved. He worked harder to get his father's attention and when it didn't work, he simply gave up in every sense of the word. Grades slipping, and mental healthy declining, Izaya no longer had any motivation. For a while, his father didn't even notice since he was so wrapped up with the twins. But when a call from Izaya's teacher came, he was livid. The news of Izaya's poor academic behavior was blasphemous to an intellectual like himself. However, he wasn't the kind to get outright mad at someone. He would stay calm and carry out punishment in cold blood, and that was how things remained after the first night of beatings.

Time went on and Izaya found himself staying in his room for hours on end researching so he could escape the life he had right outside the door. He had amassed thousands upon thousands of articles on everything one could possibly want to know about. Izaya knew it all. But he wanted to put things into practice. Things started out small; his little mind games only served to make other kids cry. As he got older he got more serious though. It was like a child playing with matches unsupervised, which he did, until they got to the point where arson seemed acceptable. That was Izaya Orihara.

His knowledge and distorted views on the world set him apart from other people so much that he was desperate for any type of explanation as to why he was alone. The only thing he could come up with was that he was simply above silly humans and their predictable ways.

Even with that serving as some sort of comfort, he couldn't help but think that even gods need affection, of which he was deprived.

He found solace in the knives that he kept stashed in his dresser drawers after realizing that a little cut to the skin will release a flow of endorphins that made him feel almost happy. Each time he would do this he would go a little longer, a little deeper, make the cut a little more jagged. They covered the majority of his forearm and bicep with a few littered about his stomach. Izaya couldn't see anything wrong with it either, so he never stopped. This sick obsession of his grew until it was as bad as the games he played.

He gained more knowledge of ways to harm the body and get the same pleasant feeling he so desperately craved. Cuts lead into burns, burns lead to experimentation with pills. And he still saw this as okay. Nobody told him otherwise, so why wouldn't it be? It took his mind off of the abuse he went through every day so it couldn't be bad. Even if it was, he was above the standards set by the humans who surrounded him.

And then came the day he learned about suicide.

* * *

When he returned to school on Monday, nobody asked where he had been. This just reiterated the fact that his humans didn't care for him they way he did for them. Oh well.

Face propped up on his hand; he stared out the window in apathy. School was boring to him now since he had already learned everything there was for them to teach him. Everyone around him had already been taken apart and pieced together by him in earlier grades as well. Therefore, nothing mattered.

The idea of skipping school crossed his mind, but he had already endured too many beatings for that to really want to try again. It was worth it for a while actually. Then his dad became a bit more brutal in his disciplining.

A weary sigh passed his lips as he waited for the bell to ring, signaling lunch. 40 seconds. 30 seconds. 20. 10. 9. 8.

Izaya was out the door the second he heard that shrill sound. His feet were taking him up to the rooftop where he had always taken his lunches with Shinra if Shizuo wasn't there to try and demolish him. Kicking open the door, he took a spot beside his bespectacled friend. "Is my monster not here today?"

"Well, actually-"

"I'm right here, flea."

Izaya looked up to see the blonde towering over him and his hand immediately went to the switchblade in his pocket. To his surprise, Shizuo didn't try to kill him. He did the exact opposite and sat down on the other side of Shinra without another word.

A frown passed over the black haired boy's lips as he leaned over to look at Shizuo. "What? Too lazy to even try to hit me?"

"I don't wanna hit you," the blonde grumbled before taking a drink of his strawberry milk.

Izaya's eyes narrowed. This was out of his comfort zone. He could handle things quite easily if he was used to them; take pain for example. It was so prevalent in his life that he almost ignored it now. Almost. But this was too fucking unusual for him to adjust to. Shizuo was being civil towards him, good natured even. This went against everything he thought he knew and it scared him. "Why not? You hate me."

"I do hate you, flea. But I don't need to hit you. Your dad does it for me."

* * *

**Oh god. I'm so sorry about this chapter guys, I was just angsting so hard and this story seemed like the perfect outlet. It's been a long day for me. I'll make it up to you in the following chapters, I promise.**

**Keep up the reviews everybody, you're amazing.**

**I love you all 3**

**~Chickadee**


	8. Chapter 8

**Rai Rai Blue and grrlsvomitcandy- Well, don't get me wrong when I say I've considered putting smut in this. I'm just not sure how well it would fit in with the plot. Maybe if I get enough requests for it then I'll find some way to work it in ^^**

* * *

The sun was shining, birds were singing, and someone was about to die.

Shizuo hadn't meant for those words to come out, they just tumbled from his lips without his discretion. Seeing the look on Izaya's face had him wishing he hadn't said anything at all. His mortal enemy recoiled as if he had been slapped, shocked and appalled by what was being said to him.

Izaya's eyes widened then narrowed into slits once the shock wore off and his hand, which had already been resting on his precious switchblade, buried the blade in Shizuo's shoulder. The wound was high enough for him to live but low enough for it to seem lethal. Maybe this would teach him to keep his nose out of other people's business.

But then again, nothing ever went right when the tall blonde was involved. Izaya could have everything planned out to the last second, but throw in Shizuo and things would get all kinds of fucked up. It was something Izaya adored and at the same time hated about his monster. He was fun compared to all of the boring little humans that he surrounded himself with. Shizuo was unpredictable. Exciting. Dangerous. For some reason that danger drew Izaya to him. At times he considered that he was masochistic, and that the injuries he sustained from their spats brought him pleasure. But the way he would scowl at every scratch Shizuo inflicted on him disproved that theory. Then he thought it was just for the pure adrenaline rush that got him off. Those chases made him feel so _alive_ that it was absolutely exhilarating. His heart would start pounding the very second he saw the brute and before he knew it, they were wreaking havoc on their fair city.

Now though, his heart was racing from rage, making blood pound in his ears.

"Don't talk act like you know anything about my life, you filthy cur," Izaya hissed, punctuating his insult by driving the knife deeper. "You have no idea what I go through so stop pretending that you do. Keep that mongrel's nose of yours out of my business. Do you understand?"

Izaya hadn't noticed, but with every word his voice grew more shrill and weak. Then before he knew it, he was crying. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and didn't show any sign of stopping soon. The warm droplets hit the black fabric of Shizuo's pants when they fell, soaking through to seemingly scald his skin.

Shizuo was aware that he should be screaming in pain, but the sight of Izaya crying stunned him into silence. The raven's eyes were watery, and his lower lip trembled with the threat of sobbing uncontrollably. He never thought he'd see Izaya like this. But then again, he never thought he'd see Izaya try to commit suicide. For all he knew anything was possible.

"Izaya, it's okay. If you want help with your dad-" Shinra had started, but was cut off by an outburst from his sniffling friend.

"I don't need help!" he yelled, pulling back so that the knife came with him and flung blood across the concrete rooftop. "I've never needed help and I don't now!"

"But Izaya-"

"Shut up! Just stop talking!"

By this time Izaya had covered his ears, the sleeves on his jacket riding up so that long gashes were visible on his otherwise perfect skin. Old cuts mingled with new in a morbid display of instability. Shizuo and Shinra stared at the marks with eyes the size of saucers, unsure of what to say or do. They had always wondered why Izaya wore long sleeves no matter what the weather was like, and now they had their answer.

"I'm going home," Izaya said, breaking through the dead air. He wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand and made his way back down the stairs from which he came. Head hung low and voice shaken, his friends could see who and what he really was.

He was still a child at heart once you stripped away all of the sarcasm and biting remarks. Trauma had accelerated and stunted his mental growth. Izaya had intelligence that could put Albert Einstein to shame, but his emotional capacity was that of a young boy. He got mad when things didn't go his way, and normally he could suppress it just so he could escape a beating, but things had gotten so bad that he just lost control. Shizuo knew that control was something Izaya craved with every fiber of his being. So to have that wrenched away from him must have been tragic, enough so that he found it necessary to kill himself.

"Should we go get him?" Shizuo said, looking up at Shinra who had just been staring off down the stairwell. His shoulder had stopped bleeding, and never really hurt in the first place, so he could make that second on his list of priorities.

"After school," Shinra replied in a small voice. "We only have a few classes left. He'll be fine for that long."

* * *

The door was locked when Izaya reached his house, meaning his dad was at work if not gone on a business trip. And a simple glance at the calendar showed that he was indeed gone for the week. He thought with complete glee that things couldn't have worked out any better.

Kicking the door shut with his foot, Izaya walked to his room, shedding his jacket as he did so.

The chair at his desk creaked under his weight when he sat down. Izaya could only hear the sound of his switchblade longing into place as he snapped it open, though. It had blood already dried on it but he didn't care; through extensive research he had figured out that he and Shizuo had the same blood type so he had nothing to worry about when he made the first incision. He twitched slightly from the sharp pain but didn't make a sound. Dark beads of crimson bubbled up from the split skin, much to his pleasure.

He moved the knife to a new place, pressing down harder than before. Izaya bit back a yelp when he hit sinewy muscle. Blood was flowing freely now and he didn't bother stopping it. Instead, he moved to a new patch of skin. This time, he rocked the knife back and forth in a sawing motion in order to breach the wall of tendons beneath. He was more than successful. An attempt at moving his fingers was futile.

This pattern repeated once, twice, three, four times over before Izaya's vision began to swim. His arm was hanging limply at his side and the knife had long since been dropped to the floor from fatigue. As his eyes fluttered shut, he couldn't help but think of the hell he would get from staining he carpet so badly.

* * *

Feet hit the pavement with a vengeance, lungs fighting to take in enough oxygen to support their host. A new onslaught of rain was proving this to be more difficult than Shizuo and Shinra had originally thought. Still, the two ran on.

With chests heaving and bodies nothing if not numb, they dragged themselves up the several flights of stairs it took to reach Izaya's apartment. The door was closed but unlocked when Shinra tried the handle. Both boys exchanged a nervous look before venturing in.

The home seemed unnaturally dark due to the heavy clouds that had taken up residence in Ikebukuro. Rain slapped against the large glass windows and created a cacophony of unnerving sounds when accompanied by thunder and lightning. The scenery, coupled with the circumstances, was making Shizuo physically ill.

Shinra had already walked down a long hallway and paused at the only open door by the time Shizuo got over his stress-induced nausea. The small brunette swallowed hard, nervously, before nudging the door farther open with the toe of his shoe.

He gasped in horror while Shizuo cursed under his breath. Izaya was seated at his desk, the image of serenity aside from the blood that still dripped from his fingers. A dark pool had formed on the ground beneath him and made a disgusting squelching noise when Shinra tried to step closer to Izaya. His chest was moving but just barely. Shinra was flooded with hope.

"Shizuo," he called, voice cracking painfully. "Help me get him back to my house. If he loses any more blood…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence, and didn't particularly want to. They both knew what would happen. Izaya would die.

Shizuo lifted the body with a nod. He moved swiftly back to the door, locking it with one hand as he followed dutifully behind Shinra. It had been said that in times of struggle, people remember the most insignificant things, and go about doing them in an attempt at normality. Shizuo guessed that this was one of those times.

Three figures moved through the pouring rain on an otherwise deserted street, heading towards their destination with grim determination. None of them spoke, and one of them was simply unable to.

Beside him in bed was a sleeping boy, arm stitched and bandaged with an IV line stuck into the vein. Never in his life did Shizuo think his own blood would be used to keep Izaya alive. Hell, he didn't even know they had the same blood type. But there they were, Shizuo doing everything in his power to save this life, while Izaya did whatever he could to end it. It made the blonde think long and hard about things that he hadn't previously considered. What would he do if Izaya wasn't around? He thought that he would have been able to live a peaceful life but now he couldn't imagine it. Why was Izaya such a dick all the time? It wasn't his fault, it was his father's. The final question made him numb with anxiety. It tangled up his heart strings and sent his mind reeling. Why did he hate Izaya? He was too scared to feel anything else for him.

"It's late. You should probably get home," came the solemn words from Shinra. He had changed into pajamas, making Shizuo realize that he'd been sitting at the side of this little cot for more than three hours.

"Yeah," was all he could manage in the way of replies.

"You can come see him tomorrow if you want," Shinra told him. The light caught his glasses in a way that hid how red his eyes were, but he knew that he had cried for a good ten minutes after Celty asked what had happened.

"Yeah," Shizuo said again. "I'll do that."

* * *

Long chapter is long ._. I was going to cut it down in size and break things up but it seemed a lot more dramatic in one big goliath of a chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it, cause I was sick at home all day writing it and listening to more motherfuckin' Dustin O'Halloran. He has a song for everything. God I love him.

And I just want to reiterate how much I love when you guys review, and to thank you for doing that and for following. All of my sappy, mushy, heartfelt words go out to you 3

~Chickadee


	9. Chapter 9

He didn't understand why he was in this position, but he didn't really want to. Shizuo didn't need an explanation for the warm body pressing against his side. The only thing that mattered is that it was there, and he wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

His first visit to the makeshift hospital room was uncomfortable to say the least. When he walked in the door, the tension was so heavy he thought it might crush him. As he pulled up a chair next to Izaya's bed he prayed that his lungs wouldn't give out under all of the pressure to keep his breathing steady. In an attempt to lighten this horrid feeling, he tried to start a conversation. It was a weak effort with the way he muttered his greetings and he knew it. Shizuo had a feeling that Izaya did too since he saw the black haired boy clench his jaw and fist the blankets tighter. So vividly did he remember how Izaya's knuckles paled to a shade that rivaled the sheets that swaddled him. After such a pitiful visit, Shizuo stayed silent every day after that. He would sit patiently beside the bed and wait for a time when Izaya wanted to speak to him, if not for himself then to make sure the boy wasn't alone, a thought that scared him horribly after the stunt that Izaya pulled. The day when Izaya finally broke this speechlessness between them was slow to arrive, taking a good week or two to get there, but was momentous nonetheless.

Shizuo had walked in like always and reached to grab his usual chair when a meek voice halted his movements, catching him completely off guard.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya had mewled, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were downcast, honed in on his fingers which were picking nervously at the sheet covering his legs. Those feeble digits were trembling with every little movement, wavering along with Izaya's resolve. He was forcing himself to talk and Shizuo knew it. "Come sit by me."

It was the last thing he thought he'd hear that day, but his heart still soared when he did. Shizuo's reaction didn't give this away at all; he sat down on the bed, close but not too close, one leg dangling over the side. "Alright."

They stayed like that, side by side, until the sun had vanished and the TV was the only thing lighting up the dark room. Shizuo stretched and yawned before bidding Izaya farewell. The gaunt young boy waved but didn't say anything else. Still, Shizuo was satisfied.

The next few days carried on this same fashion, with only a few words being exchanged as they stared into the television set. Neither of them noticed the subtle changes, the way they both shifted to get closer as they lay next to each other. They paid no mind to how Izaya had started using Shizuo's shoulder as a pillow. The larger male only noticed this when he felt a thin pair of arms wrap around his waist, and the silky black hair that had previously been ghosting over his forearm brushed against his collar bone. He blushed fiercely from the contact but made no move to push him away. Instead, Shizuo pulled him closer.

Surprises kept on coming at him at a startling pace that night, because not an hour after that, Izaya spoke once again.

"I didn't think anyone would really care, you know? Dad doesn't. Neither do Mairu and Kururi. The only person who would give a damn would be Shinra," Izaya said, eyes glued to the TV screen, focused intensely on whatever off documentary he was having them watch. If Shizuo remembered correctly, it was about cannibalism in South America.

He was baffled by the sudden comment but did his best to respond. "What do you mean?

His question, of course, went unacknowledged. "I thought I was okay with being on my own. I thought I could handle everything. For once, I guess I was wrong. So, dying sounded like a good idea. Falling from a building seemed like a perfectly dramatic way for someone like me to go. Quick and painless, yet incredibly gruesome in the aftermath. But my plan didn't work the way I thought it would. You had to be there, you had to see the whole thing and save my sorry life. Stupid Shizu-chan."

"Nobody can handle everything on their own, stupid flea," Shizuo responded. He was trying to sound irritated but couldn't manage it. His words came out in such a fond way as he brought Izaya ever closer to himself.

"I'm not like all of you, though. Really, I thought you would have figured that out by now." There was no malice behind what Izaya said, he was simply stating an observation, and Shizuo reveled in the joy that it brought him. "I'm a different breed, Shizu-chan. My brain works in ways that the average person wouldn't be able to comprehend."

A pang of what Shizuo could only identify as sorrow shot through his ribcage. Why? He wanted to be the person who could finally unravel Izaya and know every aspect of his being. It pained him to hear the other boy sound so desolate when speaking of his relation to other people when Shizuo was right there, when he was willing to listen. "You don't give people a chance."

"Why should I?" This time, there was a bite to Izaya's words. Shizuo pressed the pads of his fingers harder into his companion's forearm, who in turn sighed and relaxed again. "I have no one to trust. Humans are unfaithful creatures that don't know how to do anything other than hurt each other."

Shizuo wanted to shake him, yell at him that he needed to fucking open his eyes and see that he was right there to help him. He refrained, instead just nodding slowly. "Not every human is like that. I'm sure there's someone you can have faith in."

Izaya shook his head in disagreement. Raven colored locks grazed his jaw and made Shizuo shiver. "No. when you get down to it everyone is the same. People want what's best for themselves above all else, only caring about others when it's convenient for them."

"That's not true. Look at Shinra. Do you really think he's trying to get something out of having you stay here? He's doing this out of the goodness of his heart, you know." He stood up, noticing that it was much too late for him to be staying. The crinkling of Shizuo fixing his shirt and the low hum of the TV nearly drowned out what Izaya said next.

"What about you? Why are you here? You wouldn't be coming every day unless there was something in it for you," he said. It was so quiet, so faint that Shizuo almost missed it. He barely caught it, but still he said nothing. How could he respond to that? It wouldn't be right to just say 'Izaya, I think I love you, that's why I keep coming over'.

"I've gotta go. I'll be back tomorrow," Shizuo muttered with his hand on the doorknob.

"Hey, Shizu-chan," Izaya called halfheartedly. The blonde dared a glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I hate you." If it had been any other day of any other year, and he were in any other situation, he would believe that. But the look in Izaya's eyes contradicted those three words.

Shizuo couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah. I hate you too, flea."

* * *

**Well, here's some OOC fluff. I really wanted to keep up with the angst but my lovely readers deserved a prize for being so good to me. :3**

**Enjoy the romance now, because I plan to have some more shit go down next chapter. And if I'm in a good mood, things will get lovey dovey afterwards. We'll see.**

**~Chickadee**


	10. Chapter 10

He couldn't remember a time when he had ever felt this warm, not even when his mother had still been alive to hold him. Going as far back as he could, Izaya always recalled being physically chilled to the bone, which partially resulted in the constant wearing of his parka. This warmth was unfamiliar. Not unwelcome, just foreign enough to make him worry about its validity. He couldn't say it was uncommon for him to imagine someone, anyone, letting him cling to them for heat and protection during a time of crisis. Mostly though, it would be when he was laying in bed, arm hastily stitched and pressed painfully into his side as he tried to sleep. This illusion of safety and love would allow him enough comfort to fall into a sleep where that was the only thing that existed; there was no abusive father, there were no bloody sheets to clean, just serenity.

Somewhere along the line, as Izaya lay in his cot that had been happily made by Shinra, this serenity had been given a name, a face. Slowly it became more defined until it was a mirror image of the one who hated him most. It must have been some sort of subconscious punishment to let him imagine this man holding him without any malice, because when he would wake up, he would just be alone again, and that man would still want him dead. At least, he thought that Shizuo still wanted him dead. The lines they had so blatantly drawn were now blurred so badly Izaya thought they had vanished. Now there was nothing to separate them. He had nowhere to hide, and it frightened him. So, he kept his mouth shut, as not to damage the already fragile truce between them or show weakness. After all, it is said that actions speak louder than words.

Izaya buried his face in the blonde's chest, letting his arms circle around his waist and draw himself closer. His eyes were closed tight out of a mix of emotions, most of which were too embarrassing for him to describe. His pride had suffered enough.

Above him, Shizuo shifted, craning his neck so he could look at the one who clung to him so desperately. As far as he could tell, Izaya was asleep, and that was how things were going to stay. He threaded his fingers through the silky black hair and kept on staring at the television. Some children's show was playing, the colors and music bright enough to keep him from thinking about the threads grazing his bicep. They were taught and itchy, maroon flakes chipping away onto the blankets when Izaya moved too quickly.

He brushed some of the bits away when Shinra poked his head in the door, signaling that it was time for him to go. Shizuo looked at Izaya one last time; his face was calmer than he had ever seen it, and he drank in the sight readily. Shinra clicked his tongue.

"Shut up, will ya? I'm leaving, just give me a second," Shizuo grumbled. His brunette friend closed the door behind himself with a soft click. Alone with the sleeping boy, he figured it was as good a time as ever to say something. He couldn't get his feelings thrown back at him with Izaya asleep like this. So he decided to take a rather pitiful leap of faith, but a leap nonetheless. "You better be okay, Izaya. I like you. I mean, you're still an annoying brat, but…I like you…maybe love you…I dunno…just get better, stupid flea."

His words echoed in Izaya's head long after the door closed, and long after the argument outside of his room began. They stuck with him even as he was thrust back into a house that could never be considered a home, only to be struck violently until his body couldn't keep itself up. In all honesty, those simple, and possibly insulting if he were more easily offended, words stayed with him until the day he died.

It didn't seem like much at the time; another stranger just bumped into him on the sidewalk as they rushed towards their destination. Shizuo would've beaten the shit out of him usually but he couldn't muster the anger. Instead of flaying the man alive, he just mumbled an apology at the back of a quickly retreating form. He received no response.

"Ungrateful four-eyed bastard," he growled, though it didn't have the intimidating tone it normally did. Shizuo kicked a rock with his shoe and continued down the street. On the fourth or fifth kick, as he pulled back to launch the thing a ways down the sidewalk, he paused. A raindrop plopped on the scuffed leather, showing him a bleary and upside down reflection of himself. For a moment, he thought it was poetic, and how much Izaya would love to just go on and on about the symbolism. And then he realized what kind of symbolism it was. He thought, suddenly, that he hated rain more than anything.

* * *

The pounding on the door drew him out of his catatonic state, startling him enough to make him jump and clutch his pillow. A drop of blood landed with a tiny _plip_ on the cotton casing, slipping easily between the threads on his arm. Izaya cursed silently and listened for any other sounds.

Hushed voices, one sounding alarmed and the other one sounding downright venomous, were exchanging words at the front door. The volume was escalating so that this unknown conversation was turning into a full out argument. But through the layers of drywall and insulation, Izaya couldn't make out the words. He would catch snippets of it, but only just.

"Where is-"

"You can't do-"

"He's mine, damnit!"

Izaya paled. There was only one person that could be. _Well,_ he sighed_, it looks like daddy dearest has found me at last_. A few thuds sounded from the foyer and all he could do was wait. He waited patiently for the door to swing open and show his furious father there, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

"You're coming home," he stated, seething with rage but still collected as ever. Shinra panted behind him from trying to hold the larger male off and ultimately failing. He looked distraught, unsure of what he could do to stop whatever was happening from progressing any further.

For a moment, he didn't move. Izaya thought about so many things in the split second it took for him to stand up. He thought about his sisters and hoped that they wouldn't be home to witness anything. He thought about what time Celty would be getting home from the grocery store, and how they were supposed to have spaghetti that he would've refused to eat. Still, it was the thought that counted. More than anything though, he thought about what Shizuo said. _Love you._ His steps were propelled forward with the lurching in his heart as he pondered what the blonde would do when he got the news that Izaya was back home. Would he cry? Izaya was going to for sure. Shizuo would probably just smash a window with a stop sign and then go beat up random people.

"Izaya…" Shinra whimpered, moving to stop him only to be pushed back by an elbow in his ribs.

"I could sue you for kidnapping you know," Izaya's father hissed, eyes narrowed at the young prodigy. "Don't think I won't. Stay away from my son."

Shinra's eyes looked from Izaya to the main threatening a law suit and knew he couldn't win. He stepped away, feeling more helpless than he had in a long time.

Nothing else was said as the two black haired males left the apartment. Shinra closed and locked the door, waiting for Celty, and staring at the phone in his lap. He couldn't be sure that police would believe him with all of the self-inflicted scars on Izaya's body. There was no way to differentiate the marks. The bruises could be explained away with the constant fights he got into. And there was no chance in hell that the twins would back him up in an abuse case against their father. So he did the only thing he felt that he could: wait.

* * *

_'He's gone.'_

Those were the only words visible on Shizuo's phone when he received Celty's text. He read it over and over, not wanting to believe and too scared to. When he went to respond, another text blocked his screen.

_'I'm calling the police. It'll be okay Shizuo, don't worry. We should've done this sooner and I don't know why we didn't. Just stay strong okay? We'll get through this. All of us.'_

* * *

**Dear readers, I apologize for the wait. I've been going through a lot of personal issues and have been struggling to overcome them. I haven't found the motivation recently to write this. I'd like to think things are looking up, so here's the new chapter. **

**I'm sorry if it seems rushed; it was a plot decision that needed to be made. I hope you guys like it!**

**~Chickadee**


	11. Chapter 11

Izaya could define agony as extreme and generally prolonged pain. He could also define it as intense physical or mental suffering. Excruciating was defined as extremely painful, unbearably distressing, and torturing. These words did nothing to describe the sensations that ravaged his body as he collapsed onto his bed. Every inch of his body seemed like it was on fire, and each movement renewed the flame. So he lay as still as he could while pain burned him down to the very ashes of his being.

His stitches had been torn out when his father grabbed his arm to throw him against the couch, but the cuts were barely visible among the multitude of bruises that covered him. If he did so say himself, he looked like a macabre kind of painting, and his father was once suffering artist. The contusions on his skin ranged in color; many of them were dark purple in the center and radiated out to blue before fading into a disgusting yellowish green. Each one had a similar shape yet they were all unique in their own way. Some were larger where his father's fingers pressed in more, and some had more than one violet center because of the way the knuckles hit his skin. Yes, he was quite the masterpiece.

He hadn't cried out once during the onslaught. Any sort of sound he made would serve to enrage his father even more. That was the reason why he never complained about the injuries he sustained during his fights with Shizu-chan.

Shizuo.

Izaya found himself muttering apologies to the blonde. The reasons for each apology were everything from stealing his milk to hitting him with a truck. He repeated the words 'I'm sorry' over and over once he ran out of justifications for his apologies.

"Oh, Shizu-chan," he mumbled. Saying the brute's name out loud caused him to instantaneously burst into tears. They soaked through his pillow and made his cheek cold from the damp cloth. Whenever he sobbed, the vibration would rattle his fractured ribs and intensify his pain that much more. Still he couldn't stop himself from weeping.

Combined with his whimpers and the blood pounding in his ears from an adrenaline rush, there was no way for Izaya to hear the faint sirens and hurried voices outside the apartment. He lay unaware of the six officers that were pounding on his apartment door. And his father had no idea that a pair of cold metal cuffs would be placed around his wrists when he went to greet their guests. Izaya was only alerted to their presence when a female officer kicked open his door. If he had possessed the strength to flinch he would have, but all of his energy had been spent on keeping himself alive and crying. The woman examined his wounds quickly before speaking into the walkie-talkie clipped to her shoulder. Two paramedics entered the room within the next minute and coaxed him onto a stretcher. Izaya couldn't fight off the feeling that he'd done this before.

* * *

All was quiet when Shizuo arrived at Shinra's house. His friend was curled into Celty's side on the couch and clutching the phone in his hand with a vice like grip.

"Did he do it?" Shizuo asked cautiously. Celty 'looked' at him and 'nodded'. She typed on her PDA quickly, holding it up for him to read.

_'The police are already at Izaya's apartment. They said they'd give us an update on the situation within a few hours.'_

"Thanks," he choked out. He didn't  
need to specify anything because she already knew. He was thanking her for doing what he was too stupid to do.

_'Don't beat yourself up over this, Shizuo. You're still a kid and I wouldn't expect you to know what to do in a situation like this. You thought you could handle it. You all did.'_

Celty was referring to the three of them; Shinra, Izaya, and himself. They all assumed they were mature enough to take care of things without any help. It was a moronic notion but Celty said it herself: they were just kids. Nobody could expect them to think with logic all of the time.

Shizuo sat himself down in the chair across from Shinra and Celty, not sure how to handle himself anymore.

* * *

In the two hours that he had been in the hospital that night, four different people came to inspect his body, each with an entourage of their own. Pictures were taken and assessments were written on papers hidden from his line of sight. They must have been writing something they didn't want him to see from the way they kept tilting their clipboards at odd angles when they got closer to him.

Izaya was relieved when the last group left and a lone man walked in, dressed up in a suit and a tie with yet another clipboard. One on one's were easier for him to handle.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, is that alright?" the man asked as he took up residence in one of the plastic chairs.

_No, it's not alright._ "Of course."

"Were these," he motioned to an ugly bruise on Izaya's cheek with his pen, "_afflictions_ caused by your father, Shirou Orihara?"

"Yes."

"How long has this been going on for?"

"The beatings started when I was nine. He's been neglecting me since I was six."

"I see. These," another gesture was made with the pen but now towards a cut on his arm, "_lacerations_-"

"They're cuts."

"Excuse me?"

"Just because you use fancy words doesn't mean the situation is any better. They're cuts."

"Ah. Yes. I apologize. These _cuts _were self-inflicted, yes?"

"Correct."

"And you have also tried to commit suicide?"

"Right again."

"Because of your home life?"

Izaya paused for a second. There was more to his suicide attempt than just that, but he figured it would do. "Yes, you could say that."

The man stood up, scratching down a few more words on a new sheet of paper. "That's all I'll be needing to know. I realize that it's soon, but you'll be making an appearance in court to testify against your father in three days. Answer the judge honestly and make sure you have the story straight beforehand. And just remember, Izaya, he can't hurt you anymore."

_He already has, though. _

It was pointless to try and tell him that he was now safe, because the damage had already been done. There was no fixing him. The only end to this would be death. Izaya would have to live with these scars, both mental and physical, for the rest of his life. Safety meant nothing to him now. After living through what he had, there was no reason for it. He could survive regardless of the situation because survival was all he'd ever known.

* * *

Shinra gave a final nod and put the phone back on the receiver.

"Izaya is in the hospital again. He'll be showing up in court in a couple of days," Shinra said, relaying what he heard from the chief of police. Celty stood up and pulled him close to her, holding on tightly. Shizuo remained where he was on the chair.

"Thanks. Are we going to get to see him?"

Shinra shook his head. "They don't want him to have any visitors right now. The only people that get to see him are Mairu and Kururi."

That finally got Shizuo to move. He stood up quickly, the chair moving back with the force of the action. "That's bullshit! They don't give a damn if he lives or dies so why do they get to see him and not us?!"

"I-I don't know," Shinra said as he flinched closer to Celty. Shizuo balled his fists but didn't yell anymore. "And th-they do care. They don't show it a whole lot because they think Izaya doesn't like them. He's their older brother, Shizuo. Did you not see the flowers they left for him in the hospital?"

Thinking back, Shizuo hadn't even noticed any flowers in Izaya's room when he went to see him. This was most likely because he was too focused on how gaunt Izaya looked in that starch white bed.

"They were just little daisies, nothing special," Shinra continued. "The girls picked them when they were walking to the hospital. They grew out of a crack in the s-sidewalk but it's the thought that counts."

Guilt and pain ripped through Shizuo like a bullet. How had he not gotten anything for Izaya during the entire time that he was bed ridden?

He was determined now; when he finally got to see Izaya, he'd give him flowers, and balloons, and goddamnit he was going to hug that little flea until he just couldn't anymore.

* * *

**Now reader, don't get mad at me because Shizu-chan didn't kick Izaya's dad's ass. Things just weren't gonna go down like that no matter what y'all said. Sorry. **

**But look at the last sentence right there! It's cute and fluffy and yes! I believe that makes up for all of the disappointment you must be feeling right now.**

**Well, whatever.**

**I was going to put some review respones at the beginning but there are so many people I want to thank that I'm just going to do it here. Thank you so, so much to everyone who has reviewed on this. You're all so sweet to me and it makes my day when I get reviews from you :3 I love you all!**

**~Chickadee**


	12. Chapter 12

The chair he sat in was cold, its metal frame like ice as his fingers tightened on it even more. A chill shot through his fractured spine and resulted in an unpleasant and disjointed sensation from the contact. Izaya waited for it to pass but it lingered in his body for minutes on end. This could have been a result of his subconscious clinging to any stimulation it could get after the mind-numbing three days he'd spent in the hospital, or it could've been his nerves acting up. He reasoned that it was a combination of both.

His father was no more than twenty feet away, looking professional and untouchable. Not once since he arrived had he paid any attention to his son and Izaya couldn't help but think of just how trivial this must have seemed to him. He was in court, fighting for the custody of a son that he never wanted. The contradictory nature of that made Izaya's head throb even more. Did his father just need someone he could knock around when he was in a bad mood? No, his dad was too controlled for that. The only reason he had showed up for this was so he could maintain his social image. Losing his son in a court battle definitely wouldn't reflect well on him.

Clad in a black pin-stripe suit, his lawyer took up the seat beside him and rifled through some legal papers. He noticed Izaya looking at him and smiled casually. Izaya just scowled in response. Facing forward once again, he went over what he was expected to say. For the past seventy-two hours he had been drilled on the facts about the abuse he endured, his self-injury, and his social life. He'd recited everything the night before, repeatedly until he'd brought himself to tears from speaking of his trauma. Izaya grit his teeth to keep from going through that today.

Low murmurs were heard all around him until a woman, an older lady who he assumed was the judge, entered the room. She put up a hand and took her position above all of them. Glasses perched on her nose, the woman sized them up. Izaya clutched the chair tight enough that he thought he would wear down the bones in his fingertips.

"All rise," the bailiff chimed from beside the judge. Scuffling sounds filled the room and when they ended, Izaya realized he hadn't moved at all. He couldn't. The bailiff was staring pointedly at him, about to repeat himself, when the judge intervened.

"You may be seated," she said. More shuffling sounds chorused around him as people took their seats once more.

Izaya sat there, hypersensitive to what went on in that room as the formalities were taken care of. Every whisper seemed too loud, every scuffle of shoes sounded like an earthquake. The freezing air that seeped from the courthouse vents did nothing to help the goose bumps creeping along his forearms, which were only half covered by the shirt the hospital gave him.

"Now, let's hear the defendant's opening statement."

Straightening his coat, the attorney appointed to Izaya's father stood and made his way to the center of the room. "My client pleads innocent of all charges. All injuries sustained by Izaya Orihara were self inflicted. Shirou has never laid a hand on this boy."

Bullshit.

* * *

Time was moving too slowly; Izaya could feel himself drowning in the sand of the metaphorical hourglass he was trapped in. With every minute he felt himself suffocate just a little bit more.

People were moving to and fro, travelling between the benches and the witness stand. Half of the questions being asked didn't seem to relate to the situation at hand, but the dueling lawyers found them extremely relevant with the way they frowned or grinned after each one. Both seemed to be doing a fair amount of each until Shinra took his turn as the witness. After that, things seemed to be working in Izaya's favor. He even managed to return the small smile shot at him by his lawyer. This gesture was quickly killed by Izaya's name being called by the judge.

"Izaya, please come to the witness stand," called the woman from her high chair, one hand readjusting her glasses as the other sorted through documents.

His eyes widened slightly, and Izaya stared at his lawyer desperately, only to get a sad shake of the head in response. He reluctantly let go of the chair and walked over to the stand. The feeling he got from this simple act reminded him of a lamb being led to slaughter. Himself being the lamb, of course, while his dad played the part of the butcher.

As soon as he was in place, the questions started flowing.

"You've self-harmed in the past, Izaya?" was the first query from his father's attorney.

"Yes."

"How frequently would you say you do this?"

"Four to five times a week. Once a day at the most."

"What do you use to injure yourself?"

"Anything that I have on hand. Usually a switchblade."

"Would I be correct in saying that you've bruised yourself before with say, a blunt object?"

This question was meant to trip him up, he knew it, and he didn't even bat an eyelash. "No. I've only scarred myself with sharp objects or burned myself. Not once have I left bruises on myself. The only bruises I've ever received are from my father."

The glare Izaya got from the man in question was enough to have him shrinking back, nails scratching into the wooden beam in front of him. If his father couldn't hurt him anymore, why was he so scared?

* * *

With bleary eyes, Shizuo tried to make out the numbers on his alarm clock. Was that a six, or was that an eight? The blonde groaned and rested his chin on the edge of his nightstand with a quiet _thunk_ so his face was only a few inches away from the clock. After squinting at it for some time, he made the numbers out to say 12:36. Rolling back over, Shizuo buried his face in a plush pillow. 12:36. He really had slept late. As he mulled this over a feeling of dread stirred in his stomach. Wasn't there something he had to do today? It was something important, he knew that much.

_Fuck. _

Shizuo lurched out of bed as the panic took hold of him. He frantically undressed only to hastily tug on the suit laid out for him by his brother.

Izaya's court case was today, and he forgot.

Stumbling for his shoes which were placed by the front door, Shizuo took his frustration out on Kasuka, who sat calmly at the kitchen table with a sandwich for lunch.

"Why didn't you wake me up?!" he shouted.

Kasuka shrugged and took a bite out of his sandwich. "I tried to. You wouldn't wake up no matter what I did. You were too busy hugging your pillow."

That made sense. Ever since he'd made the resolution to get Izaya a gift and show some real physical affection towards the boy, it was all he could think about. Apparently that carried over into his sleep as well. Still, this was something he would never reveal to even Kasuka. Shizuo flushed and yelled to his brother as he ran out the door, "I wasn't hugging it!"

* * *

A man in a navy blue police uniform gripped Shizuo's shoulder. "You can't go in there, son."

"I have to! My friend is in there, I have to be there for him!" Shizuo growled back, trying hard not to lose his temper. He didn't have a problem with authority per se, but sometimes when people told him what to do, he had trouble controlling his anger. It was getting hard with the way this cop was trying to manhandle him.

"I'm sorry, but once court is in session I can't let anyone in." The police officer tried to turn him away, but was stopped by Shizuo's iron grip on his wrist.

"Fuck that!"

The officer was a blur as his body crashed through the glass doors that Shizuo had nearly torn off the hinges already. Chest heaving from the strain, Shizuo stood and watched to make sure he hadn't killed anyone in his efforts to make it to Izaya. A strangled groan was all he needed to continue on.

Busting through the double doors, Shizuo felt his heart stop. He was late. The verdict had already been reached. The people milling around the courtroom stared at him in terror; two of them were all but surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Shizuo…" Shinra started, but was unable to finish the sentence. All he could do was stare at his friend. Izaya moved forward and stood in front of Shizuo with an unreadable expression.

"You're a bit late, Shizu-chan."

"I…know. I know."

The dark haired teen forced a smile. "Good news. My father has ten years in prison. I, on the other hand, will be moving to Shinjuku since I'm old enough to stay on my own. My sisters are staying with a relative in Shibuya. Isn't that great?"

"You'll still go to Raira, right?" Shizuo asked, his throat closing up. He thought for a moment that he stopped breathing when Izaya shook his head.

"No. I'll be going to a different school for the rest of the school term. But that's good for you, Shizu-chan! You won't have to deal with me anymore!"

The last syllable was squeaked out rather than spoken because Shizuo's arms had wrapped tightly around the smaller boy, successfully shutting him up.

"Stupid flea. You're supposed to stay in 'bukuro so I can chase you."

"Ah, I apologize. You'll have to do without me for a while," Izaya sputtered, bringing one hand up to tug gently at the blonde strands of that brushed his cheek. Heat pooled in his belly as Shizuo nuzzled his neck like an affectionate little puppy.

"I hate you."

These words had taken on a new meaning for them, one that sent Izaya's heart soaring. They meant the opposite, which neither of them would ever be able to utter without losing every ounce of masculine pride that they had.

"I hate you more."

* * *

A craptastic new chapter for my lovely readers who desrve more than that. I know nothing of legal matters, and had no idea what to do with this chapter honestly. I apologize. The next one will be marginally better.

~Chickadee


	13. Author's Note

**I'm glad you're all excited and eager for a new chapter, but please do not ask me when it will be out. Especially when I have no way of getting back in contact with you (I'm looking at you, Rea-chan. You're awesome, but get an account of ffn if you want me to really be able to respond).**

**I have some issues to attend to before I can get back to writing anything, ranging from medical to relationship problems. As soon as physically possible I will be back to writing. I can't approximate how long it will take me so please just keep an eye open.**

**Sorry; you were probably thinking this was the new must be disappoint. And I don't mean to sound like a jerk in this A/N but I'm just so burnt out it's takinga real toll.**

**I love you guys, though. Don't forget that.**

**~Chickadee**


	14. Chapter 13

There was a gentle tapping of rain on the sidewalk as Shizuo trudged on in search of some new way to make money after being fired from his first job. It honestly wasn't his fault; the kid had it coming. But following that logic, that meant that the counter he threw and window he smashed also had it coming, which sounded stupid even to him. Instead he tried to blame Izaya. For the first few weeks of the boy's absence, Shizuo was restless. His pent up energy had him pacing around grumbling until he finally snapped, literally and metaphorically. He'd re-broken every bone in his hand not four days after Izaya moved to Shinjuku by punching a car that honked at him. Shinra managed to rein him in before he could do any serious damage, telling him that he was just making a mess that someone else was going to have to clean up. Of course, the appeal to his guilty nature stopped him in his tracks. So in the time following he just sulked at home or took walks around Ikebukuro in hopes of seeing that cut of jacket and red shirt. He would've been happy with a knife flying past his head for Pete's sake. But they received nothing. Nobody heard from Izaya or even from the twins. Izaya hadn't contacted any of them to let him know that he was alive and well. When Shizuo awoke in the morning he would often wonder if the boy had carried out his suicide attempt from some different rooftop under a different sky and with a different audience, one that wasn't going to be able to save him. The rain didn't help either. For the rest of his life he would associate precipitation with death. This was a real pity, seeing as he quite enjoyed storms when he was a kid.

The rambling in his head was cut off by a low whinny at his side, and Shizuo looked up to see Celty on her steel horse, tapping away at that PDA. He paused to watch her but didn't say anything until a screen was flashed in his face.

_'Have you heard?!'_

Shizuo couldn't tell if she was happy or not by the shaking of her shoulders. "No," he stated simply. "What? Did something happen?"

_'I can't believe Shinra hasn't told you yet!'_

"Wha-"

_'He is in so much trouble when I see him!'_

"Celty-"

_'I mean come on! You of all people deserve to know the most of all!'_

"CELTY."

The gloved fingers ceased, hovering over the keypad. Shizuo let out a sigh.

"Just tell me what happened, alright?"

_'It's Izaya! He's in Ikebukuro! He called Shinra this morning saying that he was here!'_

As soon as this information processed, Shizuo broke out into a dead run. He wasn't sure where he was going exactly, but he had only three things on his mind: flowers, balloons, and Izaya.

* * *

Izaya pushed himself up from the plush armchair that Shinra had seated him in. "It's been a pleasure catching up, but I'm really here on business, so I best be going."

Shinra smiled brightly, though he really had been since Izaya walked through the door. "Alright. Be sure to check in with me occasionally, okay? I want to know how you're doing mentally and physically. And don't forget to go see Shizuo!"

The informant laughed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his new jacket, lined with fur and black like the rest of his wardrobe. A grin spread across his features. "Don't worry. Shizu-chan has a knack for finding me no matter what."

With a short goodbye, Izaya left and began his walk towards Russia Sushi. Sure, he had an important meeting to attend to in less than twenty minutes, but he could down a package of ootoro before then if he didn't get distracted. He counted the steps remaining, _10_, _9_, before he would get to the desired establishment, _6, 5_. Izaya had gotten down to three when he heard something like a stampede behind him and he jokingly mused whether or not an elephant had escaped. A glance over his shoulder had him rooted to the spot though.

To be blatantly honest, the sight was rather ridiculous. A tall blonde with about six colorful balloons clasped in his hand, a small bouquet in the other, and a stuffed cat tucked under his arm was not what people generally saw on a day to day basis. His cheeks were pink from either the exertion of running from point A to point B or the sheer embarrassment of looking how he did. Izaya memorized the image with the utmost glee.

"Izaya."

His heart stumbled and skipped with just that one word.

"Hello, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo looked around at his cargo and flushed even more, not really knowing what to do as the shorter man approached him. So, he did what he did best: ramble like a nervous school boy.

"I never got you anything while you were in the hospital, so I thought that I should you know, buy you something…but you kinda moved so I never saw you and Celty just told me that you were here and I didn't have any time to get anything better so…here."

The blonde thrust his hands forward and stared at the ground so he didn't have to see Izaya's reaction. After having this moment recounted to him by the raven himself, he wished that he had. Izaya took the balloons and flowers with deft fingers, coddling the toy feline in the crook of his arm as if it was an infant. He took one large step forward so that they were practically chest to chest. This action in and of itself drew a lot of attention and he adored almost as much as the man in front of him. He decided to step it up a notch.

"How thoughtful of you, _Shizu-chan_," Izaya purred, getting up on his toes so that he could brush his lips over the other's cheek. A delighted shiver was his only response. Izaya transferred the flowers into his other hand easily and let the free hand tangle itself in Shizuo's hair. "And you're right. We haven't seen each other in quite a while. What do you say we go make up for lost time, ne?"

Shizuo blinked owlishly and tried to ignore the butterflies that arose with the heat in his stomach. He wasn't dreaming was he? No, he had definitely gotten up this morning. He had rolled off the edge and hit his head on the nightstand. Which meant this was real. Izaya was really, truly, actually asking him to go and do god knows what. What they did didn't matter to him so long as he got to hold that tiny frame close. Just the thought had him grinning.

"Okay."

And with that one word, their fate was sealed. And with one swift motion, Shizuo had picked Izaya up to carry him back to his apartment princess-style. Now it was Izaya's turn to blush and pout as he struggled to keep a hold on his gifts.

"My legs work just fine Shizu-chan, you can put me down," he huffed, though he enjoyed the affection deep down in that twisted little heart of his.

"Nah, this is more fun," Shizuo replied, adjusting his grip on his new beau. Both of them were too wrapped up in their own romance to see how the clouds had disappeared, and the only rain that was left resided on the delicate flowers in the bouquet.

* * *

**Haha, well this isn't exactly how I planned on finishing this bad boy up, but I kind of like it. Yeah it's a bit OOC but you can't get a whole lot of fluff with these two unless it ends in smut, which I don't feel fits the plot.**

**SO! I would like to thank everyone who stuck with this stroy and reviewed and waited oh so patiently for the final chapter! I love all of you! Hugs, balloons, flowers, and stuffed kitties for you!**

**~Chickadee**


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